A Demon(s)
by A fan of Many Stuffs
Summary: Ciel had to go through a lot [of pain] to make him from Ciel to Earl Phantomhive. Sebastian always saw the potential of his soul. Both wonder when the game will be over. But pain… Such a curious thing, pain…


_**Warnings: Mentions of cutting, hints of involuntary prostitution, and all the typical dark stuff in canon. SebaCiel is you squint hard. But only for his soul, of course~.**_

 _ **Summary: Ciel had to go through a lot to make him from Ciel to Earl Phantomhive. Sebastian always saw the potential of his soul. Both wonder when the game will be over. But pain… Such a curious thing, pain…**_

 _ **Not an AU, nor romance. Just the dark bits of Kuroshitsuji that we love so.**_

 _ **Seven**_ _ **One Devil(s)**_

Pain; a curious thing. A reaction to a traumatizing event. Opposite pleasure, oftentimes the same thing; hysteria.

 _Cold and warm at the same time, peacock blue eyes; hypnotizing._

Pain. Such a beautiful thing; twisting and writhing, and you mourn the memory of gladness; despair.

 _We twisted as one. Like tornadoes - one hot, one cold._

Pain, something for you to crave. A mudslide that you relish and dig in deep, where you feel like you'll never get out of- that you'll never _want_ to get out of. Such beautiful things come from pain, begging and screaming and crying for it to stopstopstop but would never give it up for anything because it's better than feeling nothing, and reminds you that you are _alive_ in all of the dark beauty that _is your_ _soul_.

 _He always remembered, when he wanted to torture himself, the good memories. It burned and writhed like paradise, but made him scream in nightmarish pain and ecstasy._

Hope. It is odd at first; something that is foreign and strange, and you're not entirely sure that it is good, but vaguely identifiable all the same. But with hope comes the memories of a better time and place; where such things were commonplace, and the pain comes again - comforting in its familiar slow burn; exquisite.

 _When she left, I was condemned to the icy, fiery pits of despair. My angels faded away; frightened off by the pain. I prayed –to whom, I do not know- for_ her _to come back._

Nothingness. It is odd, to have no feelings. The mind seems stark without them. The pain doesn't come as easily nowadays, and the physical kind is different. It lasts longer, but if it cannot always be fresh (the smooth sweet feeling of ribbon razorblade sliding under your skin and silkily drawing the beloved red substance that tastes sweet and is such a _pleasure_ to pull, almost as good and _oh so close_ to the pain), then it should not be doled out.

 _His soul in the darkness of that place; nothing stood out more. His determination [brokenness] shining in his eyes; that was the moment I knew that his would be among the best I had ever devoured._

Emptiness. It is not as familiar as nothingness, but close enough not to make too much distinction. But the thought seems to rattle around; echoing through my hollow shell. So I think so much it hurts, let the subconscious thoughts run through my brain at full speed, hardly comprehending them before they're gone; hardly slowing them down.

 _Blinding fire slowing ice; more charisma dark light. I know not what he was, but the heat and chill in his veins was like nothing else. Today, I still dwell; forever stuck in that one spot; hoping, hoping, gone- for him to return._

Wilting. I read something sad, so sad. The pain shouldn't cut, but it lingers still. I don't want to cry, I don't want to cry, but the tears won't listen. Have they been held back too long? I feel the feeling of salt on my skin as the tear tracks dry. Why can't I scream? I want to scream. Scream in this horrible nightmare.

 _He was something I hadn't seen before- a real specimen. Unique; he caught my eye and the surroundings paled. There was nothing I could do but watch._

Laughter. It comes slowly at first, only at the lewdest and wryest of jokes. Short bursts of sound that you don't really feel. It's more like hysterics, really. But it comes.

 _We ended up together; despite my nature. My true nature helps him,_ here _. I was afraid I was going to eat him- in truth, I wanted him as my slave. Take him with me to the worlds beyond; twirl him with me in the space between Earth and Hell._

The emptiness comes longer, nowadays. Or rather, Nothingness. Only the Nothingness to keep myself entertained (Other than _her_ orders), and I know what it feels to be emotionless. They noticed something, but assumed it would simply fade away.

 _I managed the night. I spent a few years there, too. A servant; twisting his soul into an edible state that would slide smoothly down my throat like the finest wines. In the meantime, it was a feast -a feast of emotion- for_ me _._

Music. Music is what fills my brain now, so that none of the darkness comes. None of the emptiness or the Nothingness. But the pain still lingers, deep and behind barriers, oh, so _many_ barriers. I can't really _feel_ the pain anymore, so instead I play music, and hope that I will never _feel_ again…

 _It would be better if I left. So I did leave. I watched him, too- how lost he seemed! I was glad I wasn't one of_ _them_ _._ _They_ _were weak. It puzzled me; how could one form such attachments in such a short time?_

Drugs. They filled me up; numbed me. Why hadn't I tried this earlier? They only forced me to take them. There was nothing to worry about here, nothing to feel bad about. No one mattered. Here in this place, I painted entire murals on the walls with only my blood as paint. They marveled at the roses and the thorns; thought the use of paint was wonderful. _But they never knew…_

 _I watched him from afar for many moons and suns, Samhain and Beltane. I felt different each time. I knew names for them- such weak names they were. How could one expect the depth of feeling that we cannot comprehend to be conveyed by a mere word?_

Alcohol. It was… different from drugs. Another way of coping; they would drown me and I would wake up feeling too bad to consider the ocean within me; swirling in a black sea of toxic oil, on my own two-toe spaced island for me to stand on. Then the tide rose, and I was drowning again. So I drowned the drowning.

 _Love. Amore. Aimer. Sad. Blue. Salty. Melancholy. Jealousy. See how very weak they are? I do not know… cannot comprehend… not sure if I want to know… why they chose those words. Why not Aimeney? Keinar? Blunsòmé? Teynahgah? Ai? I felt all of these and more as I watched and watched; letting my thoughts twist aimlessly around as I focused on the events of another's life…_

Wanting. I wanted… I wanted to change. I wanted _so many things_. I wanted to be free, I wanted to go back, I wanted this to never have happened… But happen it did, and go back I could not. In this interim, where I could not decide what to do, a miracle happened… I was given a second chance; a way to escape from the choice… So I made a new one.

 _There was a decision to make. I made it. Perhaps it was not my place, but made it I did. Several of them. What right did I have, after all, to make such a… such a meteor effect; a crater in_ his _life? I may as well just do it completely. He did not hesitate to take my hand. Should I feel guilty? But I am not one to feel such human things._

And I know, that once I have my vengeance, I will fade away, and not last even til the morning after. It will be fine, for I will have felt the cold, satisfying feeling of retribution. I will not go to Hevean; nor Hell, but instead down the demon's gullet. Until then, I will be protected and served by a demon butler. When we made the contract, he utterly _failed_ to tell me that he would play with me as well, like a strung mouse toyed with by a hungry cat. I am the king in this game, and he knows that.

 _He will have his vengeance, and I my most satisfying meal. I will not allow him to bend, but rather break, until he forges himself anew, and becomes yet more tastier. Keeping him is impossible, so I will instead keep him within me, until the time comes when he is completely devoured. But for now, he is kept safe by my hand, because he is_ mine _to play with and melt and break for myself. For now, I am but his pawn, but I am also wolf in sheep's clothing; a king in disguise. I will enjoy the day when the façade falls, and we are but prey and predator._

 _Pain in pleasure_

That is the key

 _Not caring_

Not whining

 _No keeping in time._

In pain

 _In pleasure_

We circle round and round

 _Numb;_

Pleasing;

 _Pain-_

One endless cycle.

 _No one knows_

Or even supposed

 _How we play this game_

Again to then

 _Akin to few,_

Akin to new.

 _And how we realize,_

Despite our types

 _Not knowing the other's origin_

Or really anything

 _And conceive_

And please

 _-In the seven circles-_

Of my mind

 _Of Hell_

That we play our twisted game in

 _Of the Faustian Contract_

That I

 _-We-_

Made, for one simple purpose;

Revenge;

 _A feast._

 _ **Meow~**_


End file.
